Jim's New Job
by JPH
Summary: Starting at Jim's first day at Dunder-Mifflin, a look at the goings on at the office before the documentary crew arrived
1. New Job

Chapter One

The elevator doors slid shut as Jim pressed the button for Suite 200. He slid a thumb under the strap of his bag to adjust it and waited, while the uncomfortable butterflies fluttered in his stomach. It was acceptable to be nervous on the first day of a new job, he supposed.

The doors opened with a ding and he turned right, glancing at the large sign that read 'Dunder-Mifflin Inc, Paper Company'. He hesitated and sighed before opening the next door.

It wasn't a pretty sight, an office. It essentially involved adding plants and pictures and personal touches to a very artificial workplace in a futile attempt to make it more like home. Jim closed the door behind him with a small snap and turned to find the receptionist staring at him. Instantly, the butterflies in him rekindled, but for a different reason. Her eyes were large and her red-brown curly hair was held back in a ponytail. The hair was simple, she had little to no make-up, and she looked rather exasperated – but he'd never seen anyone so pretty. And when she gave a nervous smile, that sealed it for him: he _had_ to get to know her.

'Hey,' she said timidly as Jim approached. He saw, or rather hoped, that her professionalism had cracked, even a little.

'Hey,' he said confidently, smiling back. 'Er – my name's –'

'Jim! Jim Halpert, right? Jimmy Jimbo Halpert, the new guy!'

Jim looked left to see a short man in a navy suit. He had a rather comical face, Jim thought. His black hair was slicked back with an excessive amount of gel and he had a rather long nose. His big eyes and maniacal grin gave off an air of extreme excitement. Many others in the office looked up, diverted. A couple of them smiled, but they looked more like grimaces to Jim, as though in pity.

'Welcome, welcome, Michael Scott, your boss,' he said. They shook hands. Jim stood there, frozen. 'Welcome to Dunder-Mifflin Scranton, my empire, the best paper company in the world. Ahhh …' He sighed and broke off, perhaps disheartened by Jim's obvious lack of mutual excitement. Jim glanced swiftly at the receptionist, who just shrugged, clearly biting back a grin. Michael looked from Jim to her.

'This is Pam-Pam-Pamalam, Sir Pamelot, Pamsterlicious –'

'Pam for short,' she said, and Jim grinned again. Her voice was as sweet as the candy on her desk. She extended a hand over her desk and Jim shook it gently. He couldn't help notice how soft her fingers were.

'Yes, Pam is our receptionist, the second-best looking person here after me, of course. In fact, Pam – would you mind showing Jim to his desk, get him settled in … I will be right back, I'm waiting on a call from Corporate. I will give you a tour of the office when I am done and dusted.' Michael clapped once and hurried back in his office.

Jim looked back to Pam, who had gotten to her feet. She was in a simple shirt and cardigan but, again, Jim couldn't tear his eyes from her.

'So what's it like being second-best looking after him?' asked Jim playfully. She laughed, displaying perfect white teeth.

'Ah yeah … that sucks,' she sighed sarcastically. 'Don't worry, you get used to him after a while. A _long _while,' she added. 'Anyway, your desk is right here.' She led him only a few feet into the office. Jim's desk, empty but for a modern, flat-screen computer, keyboard and mouse, was too close to Michael's study for comfort, and was adjoined to a second, cluttered desk. A strange-looking man sat at the desk, talking on the phone. He had large glasses, a small nose, and hair that was unfashionably parted down the middle like a pair of curtains. Jim saw Pam watching him.

'Enjoy this moment, because you're never going to go back to this time before you met your desk mate Dwight,' she said softly. Jim looked at her and knew, definitely, that he liked Pam. They waited together, watching Dwight on the phone.

'… offer a wider range of products, and we have more personal customer service – yes, yes I can understand – no, I assure you, _we _are the safe option, you wanna know why? Staples' paper has proven to cause five times as many paper cuts in the past year than any other – no, I'm not being ridiculous, I am merely stating a fact … fine – fine, get your paper from Staples, and I hope you and your entire company bleed to death with paper cuts, and – damn,' he said through clenched teeth, and slammed the phone down. Jim, whose eyes had progressively grown larger as Dwight's conversation had developed, looked at Pam, who was smiling into her hand.

Dwight looked up and slowly got to his feet.

'And who might you be?'

'Dwight, this is Jim – Jim Halpert. He's just starting. He's working in sales with you, so please be nice to him.'

Jim extended a hand, keeping a straight face. 'Nice to meet you, Dwight.'

Dwight looked at Jim's hand, then back to his face. The intensity of his gaze was rather unsettling.

'I do not shake hands with my inferiors,' he muttered. 'I am Assistant Regional Manager, your superior, and eternally greater than you. You will report to me, and me alone. You will not attempt to befriend Michael, he is too powerful for your acquaintance. On the other hand, welcome.' Dwight stared at Jim for a couple more seconds, perhaps looking for a sign of weakness, before sitting down.

'Wow,' muttered Jim.

'I'm so sorry,' whispered Pam.

Jim smiled. Between Pam, Michael and Dwight, maybe it wouldn't be so dull here after all.


	2. The Tour

Chapter Two

'WAZZAAHHHH!'

Jim jumped out of his skin and turned to see Michael laughing hysterically at Jim's expression.

'WAZZAAHHHH!' echoed Dwight, obnoxiously directing the cry at Jim.

'Too far, Dwight – God, it's Jim's first day, stop acting like an idiot,' snapped Michael. Dwight immediately fell silent, looking sheepish. Michael turned to Jim.

'Ready for the tour, Jimmy boy? Then we can get you on the phone to one of our new clients and see whatchu got.'

'Sounds great,' said Jim. Although Michael's choice to give a fresh client to a salesman on his first day was questionable, Jim felt pleased; assuming he made the sale, he could make a good first-day impression. Indeed, Dwight and a couple of others didn't appear too pleased by Michael's decision. Dwight's eyes flickered between Michael and Jim jealously and, for the second time in two minutes, he stood suddenly.

'Er, Michael – may I speak with you in your office?'

'No, Dwight, just say it here.'

Dwight hesitated, and glanced pointedly at Jim.

'Michael, how is it fair that Jim is given the new client? I've been working here longer than him –'

'Are you sure?' muttered Jim sarcastically.

'And you have faith in me, I know you do. As Assistant Regional Manager –'

'To the,' corrected Michael.

'– when distributing a new client to a salesmen, you have to ask for my approval –'

'No I don't, Dwight, cut it out,' snapped Michael. He paused to regain his composure and his next words came with forced calm.

'Jim has to start somewhere, OK? It's only a small client, it's nothing to get wound up about. I don't see anyone else making a fuss.'

They lapsed into an awkward silence, eventually broken by Pam.

'Michael, I can show Jim around if you like, I know you must be busy.'

'No, Pam, just get back to reception, your phone's ringing.'

Pam paused and looked behind at her silent desk.

'Erm … no it's not ringing.'

'Pam come on, Jim needs to get the right feel of the place, he needs laughter, and man talk, and I need to get him excited to work here, and only I can give him those things.'

Jim stared fixedly at the floor. In fact, he was pretty sure Pam _could_ give him those things. Well, except perhaps for 'man talk', whatever that was. And while he would forever prefer Pam to Michael as his tour guide, he didn't want to get on the wrong side of his boss this early on.

Fortunately, further discussion was not needed because Pam's phone really did ring; unfortunately, that meant Michael was his tour guide. With a triumphant 'Aha!' Michael led Jim forwards with a little dance.

'This is our sales team. Sales team, this is Jim. You've already met Dwight, of course. Here we have Phyllis –' he indicated a large woman in glasses and a pink flowery cardigan, who smiled at Jim. 'Aaand Stanley the Manley, the office rapper, of course, loves a bit of hip-hop.' A middle-aged black man with a walrus moustache and tired eyes nodded slowly to Jim and turned to Michael.

'I'm not a rapper, Michael, why would you say that?' he asked in a deep, slow voice.

'Modest as ever, Stanley. How are the sales going?'

'Fine,' Stanley sighed.

'Great. Moving on.' Michael hurried through the gap between Phyllis and Dwight, nearly knocking a plant over.

'Here we have Devon on the phone, and Meredith. Meredith, say hi to Jim,' he said. A red-headed woman grimaced. Devon sat behind her, unshaven and middle-aged. Opposite Meredith was an older man with a patch of grey hair. He whipped off his glasses as they approached. 'And Creed, who's in charge of … erm … what do you again Creed?'

'Great to meet you, Jim,' said Creed, shaking Jim's hand and apparently not hearing Michael's question. Michael frowned at Creed but didn't say anything. He moved forward to an area behind reception, in which four people sat. Jim saw Pam watching. He grimaced at her and she grinned back.

'This is our accounting department,' Michael told Jim. 'We have Oscar, Kevin, Angela and Tom.' A tanned man smiled; a large guy with a flabby chin merely chomped on a candy bar and didn't seem to notice them; a small blonde woman looked up and back again, uninterested; a young man in glasses, who looked dejected for some reason, looked up.

'Weird guy, Tom,' Michael muttered to Jim. 'You'll do well to get a word out of him. Oscar's cool, Kevin just eats all day, Angela's kind of a biatch. I'm joking, of course,' he added hastily, realising what he was saying. Jim just felt bemused by the way Michael treated his employees with such rudeness, but he kept his mouth shut.

'Moving on.' They passed through a door behind Stanley, into a kitchen area. 'This is the kitchen, and the men's room on the right, or the women's room if you, y'know – swing for the other team.'

'Er – why would a gay guy use the women's room?' asked Jim, perplexed.

'I never said that,' muttered Michael. 'Don't put words in my mouth Jim, OK, or I will fire you.'

Jim froze and stared at Michael, who looked dead serious.

'I'm joking! I got you good! God, Jim, you need to grow a sense of humour if you're gonna work here! Haha!'

'Oh there's nothing wrong with _my_ sense of humour,' muttered Jim, but so Michael couldn't hear.

'And this is the Annex,' continued Michael, passing through the door at the other end. 'This is … never mind, nobody cares about Toby … works in HR … Corporate bullcrap,' he added scathingly. Toby spun round in his chair but Michael ignored him. Jim grimaced at him. They reached a corner, where a young, dark-skinned woman sat. 'And here's Kelly Kapoor, customer relations, adding a touch of Asian spice to the office. Kelly, this is Jim, new in sales.'

'Hey,' she said.

'Hi Kelly.'

'And _that_ is pretty much it. The break room is through there. It is ten o'clock, so I will get you on the phone and you, my friend, can start shifting paper.'


	3. Scranton Witch Project

Chapter Three

'Are these for everyone?' Jim asked, indicating the sweets on the reception desk.

'Yes, help yourself,' smiled Pam, peeling the lid off a yoghurt pot.

There was a pause.

'Listen, this might sound weird, and there's no reason for me to know this –'

Pam stared, bewildered, her spoon in her yoghurt.

'– but that mixed berry yoghurt you're about to eat has expired.'

Pam relaxed and laughed. Jim grinned.

'Thanks, I hadn't –'

'Conference Room in ten seconds people, for a very important video,' announced Michael.

'Yes, Michael,' said Dwight obediently, and dashed into the Conference Room before Michael. Pam's phone rang.

'Be there in a sec,' Pam told Jim and he followed the rest of the office, Stanley groaning, after Michael.

Like he would at school to avoid the teacher's attention, Jim took a seat at the very back and saw a large television stand at the front of the room, where Dwight sat. Jim watched Pam enter, and she nodded enquiringly at the chair next to him: _seat free?_ Jim had barely smiled in answer when Stanley parked there instead, a crossword book and pen clutched in each hand. Jim kicked himself for not waiting for Pam and watched helplessly as she found a spare seat on the side.

'Now, as you all know, we have a new employee starting today, Mr Jim Halpert –' Jim smiled embarrassedly '– so to make him feel more at home in our family here in Scranton, we are going to show him a little handmade orientation video, so he knows what it's like to work here.'

'Do we all have to watch it?' muttered Stanley.

'Yeah, Michael we have a lot of work to do, we haven't got time –' piped up Oscar.

'No, no, no, this is much more important!' said Michael. 'Jim is a new member of our office family, and we need to welcome and appreciate that, all together. When a new baby is born, do you think the parents, which is me and – er …'

'As second in command, that would make me a parent also,' supplied Dwight. Jim raised his eyebrows and saw Pam do exactly the same.

'OK, when a baby is born, do you think the parents, which is me and Dwight, and the brothers and sisters, which is you guys, just ignore and abandon it? Of course not, they would all sit down and watch a video about the rules of the house and –'

'– Michael, that's ridiculous –'

'– No they wouldn't –'

'– Yeah, that makes no sense –'

'Stop! Just stop! God!' shouted Michael. 'OK, you know what, let's just get this thing rolling.'

Jim didn't know what to expect from the orientation video, but never expected a Blair Witch Project parody, with Michael prowling around a dark office with a torch. It was certainly entertaining, if not completely bizarre. Jim's personal favourite line was 'I am so scared, when people don't label their personal food'. He spent most of the video with his mouth agape, and Pam watched his reaction with stifled laughter.

Once the video finished, Michael asked Jim if he had any questions. He said he didn't, even though the question _What the hell just happened?_ sprang to mind, and the meeting broke up.

'Are those meetings normally like that?' Jim asked Pam once they were out of earshot of Michael.

'Believe me, they've been weirder,' she chortled. 'Hey, we could have lunch now, in the break room? Since it's your first day, I could give you a tour of the vending machine.'

'Awesome,' grinned Jim, feeling a hopeful swoop in his stomach.

Pam bought him crisps in the break room. They chatted happily and uninterrupted at a table, and Jim had an excuse to gaze at Pam from close distance as she talked a little about her background and hobbies. Her eyes and smile were both so pretty, and she was very easy to talk to. It was hard to believe he'd only known her for four hours.

Jim was in a very good mood and the rest of the day passed rather quickly, in spite of Dwight's remonstrations about how he was double jointed in all his toes, and triple jointed in his hands, which he said caused him to harvest his beet farm three times faster than a normal man. He shut up when Jim offered to tie his hands together with duct tape and see if he could free them.

Jim found himself glancing at reception – a lot. He taught himself to do it when Pam was distracted: he didn't want to make things weird between them; whenever he heard Pam on the phone, or shuffling through paperwork, he would simply watch her, sometimes without even thinking. He knew it was only their first day of meeting each other, and he knew office relationships weren't always a good idea, but the urge to ask her for a drink that evening grew stronger and stronger. Of course, he would see her again tomorrow, and the next day, and probably five times a week for the rest of the foreseeable future, but there was no time like the present. By five o'clock, as he slung his bag over his shoulder and waited for everyone else to file out, he'd made up his mind.

He took a calming breath as Pam buttoned up her pink coat. It was just the two of them left, except Michael, who was re-watching the orientation video with glee.

'Hey, Pam … I was wondering if you'd –'

He broke off as the entrance door opened and a big guy, taller than Jim and with rugged good looks approached the desk.

'Er, I was wondering if you'd finished those copies for tomorrow,' recovered Jim.

'Oh, yeah, all done,' smiled Pam.

'Hey babe, all ready?' the guy said to Pam. He turned to Jim. 'Hey man, you're a new face. You work here?'

Jim's mouth had suddenly gone dry, and he cleared his throat. The word 'babe' had felt like a brutal kick in the stomach and he sensed his happiness drain away like ice-cold water coursing through him. It sucked, but it was a small comfort knowing he'd been two seconds away from an awkward exchange with Pam.

'Yeah, first day, always a big day. Jim, by the way,' he said, reluctantly extending a hand.

'Roy, I work in the warehouse downstairs – gives me a break from this goofball,' the guy said, nudging Pam. She smiled uncomfortably. 'She hasn't put you off working here, has she?'

'Oh no, she's been really helpful actually,' said Jim, smiling at Pam.

Roy paused awkwardly.

'Great, well we should get going. Good meeting you.'

'You too man.'

'I'll um, see you tomorrow, Jim,' said Pam.

'Sure, see ya.'

Jim watched them go, giving them a head start. If he was honest with himself, he knew there had to be a catch.

What a first day.


	4. The First Prank

Chapter Four

Jim looked up as Michael loudly entered the office, his head covered in a giant orange pumpkin, with jagged holes cut out.

'Hey, Pampkin, any messages?' he said, then burst out laughing at his own wit. Pam, wearing a plastic crooked nose and witch's hat looked at Michael in an exasperated kind of way and handed him the morning faxes.

'Great. Oh, love it Stanley! Will Smith, right?'

Stanley, who was wearing round shades and leathery jacket, muttered, 'No, I'm Morpheus, or something. Never heard of him but it was my wife's idea.'

'He's from that new film, The Matrix. I saw it last week,' said Dwight dismissively, who was a classic, blood-stained zombie.

'Hang on, I didn't know zombies could talk. Aren't you going to stay in character?' said Jim.

'Ha, nice try. If I ever came back as a zombie I would still be able to talk. I tune and consolidate my vocal chords every morning and evening, which gives me the strongest possible voicebox.'

'So _that's_ why you never shut up,' muttered Jim quietly.

'What are you supposed to be anyway? Didn't you realise we dress up for Halloween?'

'Yes I did,' said Jim, showing Dwight the stick he found in the parking lot and the lightning-scar on his forehead drawn in red pen. 'I'm Harry Potter.'

'Don't be ridiculous,' sneered Dwight. 'Where are your robes, idiot? And that doesn't remotely resemble a wand.'

'I'm in my Muggle clothes. And I would prove this wand is real, but I can't use magic outside of Hogwarts, so ...'

Dwight stared at the stick warily and mumbled, 'That's true.'

There was a long pause.

'_Expelliarmus!' _said Jim suddenly, and Dwight jumped so violently he fell out his desk chair.

Pam giggled and Jim grinned. He'd been Dwight's deskmate for a month, and had since learned how to deal with him. Dwight was nowhere near as intimidating or authoritative as he made out to be, but he was exceptionally annoying at times; on the other hand, Jim was less than ten feet from Pam, so he had a love-hate relationship with his location in the office. Whenever he was distracted from his work, which was a lot, he would either chat with Pam at reception, or else plot ways to wind up Dwight. He had also acclimatised himself to Michael's unorthodox management styles and obnoxious personality. While the work was no fun, he could hardly call this place dull.

'Listen up, dumbkins,' said Michael, waiting for someone to laugh. No one did. 'I have organised a little game of touchy-feely in the Conference Room at two o'clock, especially for Halloween. I will draw the blinds 'til then, so no peeking.'

At two o'clock that afternoon, Michael ordered all the lights to be turned off and they congregated reluctantly in the Conference Room for Michael's mysterious game.

'As you can see,' Michael said, his voice muffled through the pumpkin, 'I have laid out ten boxes, each containing something nice or something that will make you poop your pants.'

'What's in it for us?' asked Angela.

'I haven't finished yet Angela – jeez, Stanley, can you even see anything with those glasses on?'

At the back of the dark room sat Stanley with his shades. Michael was right, there was no way Stanley could see anything, but his head was bowed and his breathing was deep and slow. Jim couldn't see his eyes, but he would bet his paycheck they were closed.

'Just leave him, he's diabetic, he needs to rest,' muttered Michael dismissively. 'OK, I thought we could split into teams and the winner is whoever can name the most objects correctly. And the winner will receive –' he fished in his jacket and extracted a CD '– my copy of the new Britney Spears album _Baby One More Time_.'

Jim and Pam exchanged looks and Kevin sniggered.

'You bought a girl's album Michael?' he said.

'What? No, it was – a friend gave it to me. My girlfriend actually.'

'You never said you had a girlfriend, Michael,' said Kevin.

'That's irrelevant, Kevin, can we just play the game?'

'There's only one CD Michael, how can the whole team win –'

'You know what Angela, why don't you write up your complaint and stick it in the Things I Don't Care About file. God.'

There was an awkward silence.

'OK, teams,' said Dwight. 'Since this is a hand receptor task, we will divide up based on hand-eye coordination and fear stimulation –'

'No, Dwight, cut it out – just have two captains, and we'll just pick numbers. Er, Jim, Dwight, you can be captains.'

'Yes,' said Dwight triumphantly, glaring at Jim, who sauntered forwards. The rest of the office put their heads together and chose numbers.

'I will choose first as the superior captain,' said Dwight. 'Four.'

Pam stepped forward, giving Jim a _You're on_ glare, and Jim widened his eyes in mock fear. Jim ended up with Phyllis, Devon, Creed and Tom, leaving Dwight with Pam, Meredith, Oscar and Kevin. Stanley was still dozing, Toby had been told to leave by Michael immediately after asking if there had been a powercut and Kelly was too scared to play.

The boxes were coupled, one bad with one good, and the teams competed in pairs.

Jim and Dwight went first, not breaking eye contact with each other as they inserted a hand into their box. Jim had to stifle his laughter as Dwight started twitching, and his pupils dilated in fear. Jim felt only a smooth spherical surface and a thin stalk.

'Apple,' he said, and pulled it out the box. Apple indeed.

'Dwight?' pressed Michael.

'Um …' said Dwight shakily. He quickly retracted his hand, a bead of sweat on his brow. 'No idea.'

Michael lifted the lid and Meredith squealed. It was a large, hairy spider.

'OK, one point to Jim, none for the scaredy-cat. Who's next,' said Michael, and Dwight looked away sheepishly.

They continued to play in pairs. When it was Pam's turn, she withdrew her hand, which was dripping a golden liquid.

'Hey, honey, you look sweet today,' said Jim and she laughed.

'Nice joke, that deserves a high five,' she said, holding up her honey-coated hand.

'Ha, I'm good.'

'Want me to lick that off, Pam?' said Michael.

'Um …' said Pam, wondering mockingly. 'No, thanks.'

It was Creed's turn.

'Oh I know exactly what that is,' he muttered. 'It's one of those Brazilian anacondas, but it's asleep, thank God.'

'No … it's a shoe, Creed,' said Michael, lifting the lid.

Creed raised his glasses and squinted in the box.

'Right you are, boss. Size twelve …'

He examined the shoe for a second, then stuffed it in his pocket when no one was looking.

Later that afternoon, Pam hissed Jim's name. He approached her desk.

'What's up?'

She said nothing but gestured him closer and he saw a box containing a hairy spider.

'Would it be mean to hide it in Dwight's desk? I tried earlier,' she said.

'You're kidding.'

'What?'

'I've been working here for a month, and never found out you like pranks too?'

'Well, I must be pretty good at them, if you've never noticed,' she said.

'Leave it to me,' said Jim and furtively took the box to his desk.

When Dwight left for the bathroom, Jim grabbed Dwight's phone and a roll of sellotape. Careful not to squash the poor thing, Jim taped her legs to the underside of the phone and set it back in place, so it remained hidden from Dwight's vision.

Ten minutes later, when Dwight was settled at his desk again, Jim slyly looked at Pam and winked. He listened with anticipation as she tapped on her own phone. Dwight's rang.

'Hello, this is Dwight Schr– ARRGGGHHHHHHHH!'


End file.
